


House Relations

by Cassie_Bones



Category: Agent Carter (TV), Bones (TV), Carmilla (Web Series), Castle, Jessica Jones (TV), Once Upon a Time (TV), Rizzoli & Isles, Sleepy Hollow (TV), The 100 (TV), Wicked - Schwartz/Holzman, Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, F/F, F/M, Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, I'm so sorry, M/M, Magic, Multiple Crossovers, Ravenclaw, Slytherin, So Many Fandoms, Witches, Wizards, no i'm not
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-21
Updated: 2016-07-01
Packaged: 2018-04-16 12:35:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 14,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4625550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cassie_Bones/pseuds/Cassie_Bones
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a multi-fandom crossovers of all my favorite shows and the characters I feel comfortable writing. I've sorted them each into the houses I believe they would be sorted into by the Sorting Hat itself. I understand if you don't agree with my choices, but I hope you enjoy the story nonetheless.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Castle/Beckett/Rizzoli/Isles

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own any of these shows, nor do I own the Wizarding World, which is an invention of Joanne Rowling's magical imagination and I much appreciate her for it. Thank you, Jo! I hope you all enjoy reading this as I don't often post on AO3 but I figured this would be the perfect place for a multi-fandom crossover.

**Chapter One**

**_Rick Castle_ **

His mother was a Slytherin and his father was a Gryffindor—not many people could say that. None that he knew of, besides him and his little sister, Alexis, anyway. But, unlike most Gryffindors, his father had seemed to chicken out when it came to raising two children and left them when Alexis was barely three years old. Rick, himself, had only been six, but he immediately took on the role of Alexis’s father figure. Or, at least, the role of scaring away all the boggarts that she swore hid in her closet.

He’d fashioned his first ‘wand’ out of a fallen twig from the willow in their backyard and pointed it around her room, screaming, “Expecto Patronum!” each night before they went to bed. Nothing happened, though, since he had no real wand and his powers were late-coming, but it always made Alexis feel good enough to sleep. Their mother, Martha, would enter the room after all the imaginary boggarts had been vanquished and read them both a story before kissing them goodnight and tucking them in.

Rick had heard a lot of rumors about Slytherins—ugly rumors that made him angry just to think about. _Slytherins only care for themselves and anybody in their own houses. Slytherins lie and steal and cheat. Slytherins are evil._

His mother was none of those things. Martha Rodgers—for she had never changed her name after her marriage, and with good reason too—had always loved her children completely and protected them fiercely. She had given them as much affection as possible and only a small part of it was due to the absence of their father, he was sure. She gave wonderful—if somewhat eccentric—advice and was always kind courteous to others. She taught her children to be the same.

Which is why Rick was very much hoping that he’d wind up in Slytherin house when he first arrived at Hogwarts, after bidding a tearful farewell to his beloved little sister—Alexis had been fine; it was he who wept—and promising to send owls and sweets whenever possible. He’d received his real wand (11 inches, redwood, with unicorn heartstring) and a tawny owl he named Royal, who had pecked Alexis lovingly and made her giggle before they boarded the train.

He waved to Martha, who dramatically waved a handkerchief back at him, her eyes filled with tears as she watched him go, then made his way through the train in search of a place to sit. All but one compartment was full. In that one, he met Kate Beckett.

**_Kate Beckett_ **

Mudblood. The word had been hissed at her from multiple sources and she had yet to learn what it meant. She just knew it couldn’t be anything good from the way other spat it at her feet.

11-year-old Kate Beckett was raised in the human world, mostly in New York City, where her parents were both lawyers. Famous lawyers who’d gotten into a bit of a tousle with Senator William H. Bracken, a corrupt politician who’d forced them into hiding. Her parents had chosen London, England as their hiding place in the hopes that Bracken wouldn’t try to follow them. Kate was ten when they made the move. By her 11th birthday, she received her letter to the apparently-famous wizarding school, Hogwarts.

At first, she thought it was a joke, but then a man had showed up at her door. He was tall and dark-skinned and had a kind face. His name was Roy Montgomery, Headmaster at Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry and he had proof that she was…unique.

Kate used to think that something was wrong with her when strange things happened. Like the time Peyton Brooks pushed her down on the playground and his shoelaces somehow tied themselves into a double-knot, forcing him to fall flat on his face not two steps from her. He had cried and blamed her, but there was no evidence and he’d gotten in trouble instead; first for pushing her down, and then for lying to a teacher.

When she first arrived in London with her family, she’d been teased mercilessly for her ‘funny Yankee accent’ and strange behavior. She already knew that something was different about her when all of her bullies ended up with fates similar to Peyton’s, but she couldn’t say how or why or even what. She just knew.

When she’d received her Hogwarts letter, she just assumed it was another in a long stretch of mean pranks played by her classmates and tore it up almost instantly—only to find herself with three more waiting on the kitchen table the next afternoon. She’d thrown them out, assuming that more of her classmates were beginning to join in the festivities.

The third day, there was at least a dozen of them and she became angry, tossing them, one by one, into the fireplace. When a full mailbag was dropped at her door, stuffed with the wax-sealed envelopes, she steadfastly ignored it, refusing to so much as open the damn thing, because she knew what would be inside.

Then Professor Montgomery arrived and made birds appear out of thin air with the use of a simple glowing wooden stick and she was convinced, finally, of her own powers. As were her parents—when they got over the shock of it.

Johanna Beckett was the first to become excited over this, fussing over her precious little Katie as they made plans to visit what Professor Montgomery had called ‘Diagon Alley’. The man had even given them directions on how to get there and magically exchanged their pounds for wizarding currency. They wouldn’t need much for supplies, he’d promised, and tuition, room and board for Hogwarts was free. All Kate would really need to pay for was her wand, books, and robes. And perhaps a pet if she fancied it.

Even nearly a year after learning of her magical abilities, Kate could still not believe it. Her parents had acted like tourists as they walked through Diagon Alley (but, then again, so had she) and had been flabbergasted when she walked through the wall at King’s Cross and onto Platform 9¾. The whole thing would have been hilarious to Kate had she not been terrified at the prospect of starting a new school with an entire race of people who knew this world tons better than she. What if, like at her other schools, she didn’t have many friends. The only friend she’d made before attending Hogwarts was Maddie Queller, who couldn’t understand why she was being ‘sent away’ to a boarding school. Montgomery had cautioned her against allowing “Muggles” to know about the Wizarding World—except for those who absolutely needed to know, such as her parents. Muggles must not be aware of their existence, he told her, as it could spell out grave danger.

When she stepped onto the platform, pushing all of her things on a cart—including the little black kitten her parents had bought for her, which perched atop a chest of her clothing—Kate looked around curiously, nearly colliding with another cart.

“Sorry!” she exclaimed, blushing furiously. The girl she’d nearly collided with glared at her.

“Why can’t you watch where you’re going?” she hissed. “Clumsy mudblood!”

“Watch your language!” an older witch, who was herding four dark-haired children around one cart, yelled. “How dare you call anybody that!?”

“Well, she _is_!” the girl, who was a year or two older than Kate, sneered back at the woman. “Her parents can’t even get through to see her away, the dirty Muggles.” She laughed uproariously as she walked away, using magic to pull her own cart along. Kate frowned after her and the eldest child of the small harem walked up to her, shaking her head at the retreating back of the other girl.

“Ignore her,” she said. “That’s Matska Belmonde—or Mattie. She thinks she’s such hot shi—“

“Janie! Language!” The girl—whose hair was a long mess of curls—rolled her eyes and Kate couldn’t help but grin.

“Sorry,” she murmured. “Mattie thinks she’s all that and more just because her mother is some big shot Auror or something.” She rolled her eyes again. “Whatever.” She turned her head down to look at Kate, giving her a crooked, dimpled grin. “I’m Jane Rizzoli, by the way; Gryffindor third year.” She offered her hand and Kate shook it, happy to finally meet somebody pleasant.

“Kate Beckett,” she replied. “First year.”

“Ooh, what house are you hoping for? My little sister, Carmilla, is hoping for Gryffindor like Frankie and me.” She motioned to a young boy who was desperately trying to straighten his red and yellow tie and the girl next to him, who had the same unruly black curls and a bored expression on her face, though Kate could see a glimmer of excitement in her eyes as she looked all around her. “Tommy’s still too little for Hogwarts, though. Sadly.” The youngest child was clutching his mother’s hand. Of all of them, he was the only one with blue eyes and slightly lighter hair, but he looked just like his mother. He may have been around eight years old.

“I don’t know anything about the houses,” Kate admitted. “I had no idea what Hogwarts was until last year, to be perfectly honest.”

“That’s okay. A lot of Muggleborns don’t. Stick with me and I’ll tell you all about our humble little school.”

“And Maura Isles,” Frankie muttered under his breath, receiving a snort from Carmilla, a glare from Jane, and a look of utter confusion from Kate.

“Who’s—“

“Nobody,” Jane said quickly, blushing furiously. “She’s…nobody.” The train whistle blared and she breathed a deep sigh. “We should start boarding the train now. It always leaves right on time and we kind of want to get all of our stuff packed away, right?”

Kate nodded and they all helped each other load their luggage. Kate’s cat, Midnight, jumped off the cart and bounded straight onto the train, waiting by an empty compartment as they stepped on. The Rizzolis’ mother, Angela, waved them all off after she showered each one with loving kisses and Kate laughed. She reminded her of her own mother, Johanna, and how she’d been so reluctant to let her go. She felt a pang of remorse at the fact that she had acted annoyed at the public displays of affection, instead of giving it back. She wouldn’t make that mistake again next year, she vowed.

**_Jane Rizzoli_ **

“So,” Kate said as they sat down in the roomy compartment, “I couldn’t help but notice that, like me, you have an American accent. Where are you from?”

“Boston,” Jane answered. “We moved to Surrey when my dad got a job offer he couldn’t refuse—just in time for me to start at Hogwarts, actually.” She gave Kate that dimpled grin again and it made her grin in return, it was so infectious. “So where are you from?” she asked.

“New York,” Kate replied. “Manhattan.”

“Natural enemies,” Jane said, raising her brow teasingly. Kate laughed.

“It would seem so.”

Before either of them could speak again, there was a knock at the door and all four of them looked up just as a chubby boy with bright blue eyes slid it open. He gave them a sheepish smile. “Hi,” he said, “do you mind? Everywhere else is full.”

“Not at all,” Jane said, then turned to Kate. “This seems to be the American cart, I guess.” She wrapped her arms around her younger sister and tugged her into her lap. The younger girl groaned and wriggled in her lap.

“Janie!” she whined. “I’m not a toddler! I don’t have to sit in your lap!”

“You do when your big ol’ butt is taking up so much space,” Jane laughed, keeping firm hold on the girl as she scooted over to give the boy some space.

“Thanks,” he said, sitting right across from Kate. He smiled at her, his cheeks turning pink as he seemed to freeze at the very sight.

Kate narrowed her eyes at him and crossed her arms over her chest. “Didn’t your mother ever tell you that staring was creepy?” she asked. His face turned ten shades redder and he looked away, clearing his throat.

“Sorry,” he said. “I was distracted by your, uh…your cat!”

“My cat?” Kate asked, turning to look at Midnight, who’d curled up on the back of the seat, nuzzling her neck every so often as she dozed, her tail swishing back and forth.

“It’s a lovely cat,” he said, his face becoming even redder. Kate’s look of confusion deepened and Jane tried to hide her laughter in Carmilla’s hair as the younger girl smothered her own snorts with both hands.

“What’s your name, stud?” Jane asked, trying to keep her voice even.

“Rick Castle,” he replied, clearing his throat as he finally looked away from Kate. “First year.”

Jane nodded. “Jane Rizzoli,” she replied, “Third year. This is my sister, Carmilla; she’s a First year, too. And that’s Frankie, my brother; he’s Second year. We’re both Gryffindors and we have high hopes for Carm.”

Rick smiled around at the Rizzolis, before turning to Kate with an expectant look. She took a deep breath and stuck out her hand. “Kate Beckett,” she said. “First year.”

Jane watched as he reached tentatively for her hand, his chubbier one closing around it. She saw the spark the second it went through them both and bit back a grin, recognizing it almost immediately.

_They have no idea what they’re in for._

**_Maura Isles_ **

She could see thestrals. She had no idea why she could. Or, well, she _did_ , actually. Thestrals appeared to those who had witnessed death, but…Maura had never witnessed death. Not that she could recall anyway. Both of her parents were alive and well, as was her younger sister, Laura (no jokes, please; she already knew how comical it was that their names rhymed). Her grandparents had all passed before her birth so she had never witnessed their passings, even as an infant.

So then why was it that she could see a creature who was only visible to those who had seen the bitter cold of death? Why was she like this? Why was she so odd?

As she boarded the carriage with a half dozen other Ravenclaws, Maura pondered this—not for the first time—and wished that they would all just disappear.


	2. Elsa/Sorting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elsa background and the Sorting Hat

**Chapter Two**

_Elsa Snow_

Both of her parents were Squibs. And this, somehow, made them both content with their lives. Elsa had never really understood it, even living among the Muggles. They wanted to be “normal” they said, which for them equated to non-magic. Elsa sometimes wondered if they would feel the same had they not been born without the ability to cast spells and brew potions. She highly doubted it.

And they never made it a secret that they wished for non-magic children, either. Her father had hoped that, being non-magic themselves, they wouldn’t produce witches and wizards. But he was wrong. Of course he was wrong, Elsa often thought. After all, there were _Muggleborn_ witches and wizards—why not Squib-born?

Still, they had hope. They moved far from the wizarding world after their marriage and only spoke to their magical families on occasion. Elsa was born and—partially—raised in London, England, where she could have what they’d always ascertained to be a “normal” childhood. She could run around and play with the friends she made in primary school—Muggle friends—and not have to worry about remembering spells or concocting potions that might cause her—or anyone around her—any kind of pain. They felt that this would be better for her. That she would be happier for it.

Then the ‘accidents’ began.

Elsa was about eight years old when she first froze a glass of water her teacher had placed in front of her. She’d barely brushed it with her fingers when frost rose up the side of the cup and the room temperature water froze before her very eyes. Elsa had gasped and clumsily dropped it, watching in horror as it fell to the ground and cracked, sliding all around the floor as her classmates watched in wonder and confusion.

They all stared at her and she flushed bright pink, her shoulders hunching in an attempt to make herself smaller. The teacher had done her best to comfort the small child, even as she remained flabbergasted herself. Elsa’s parents had been called and informed of the curious incident and they’d immediately picked her up and brought her home. That night, they had a talk with both Elsa, and their younger daughter, Anna, who was, at the time, five years old.

“I’m a witch?” Elsa gasped, looking down at her hands. “But witches don’t exist! They’re just in stories!”

“They’re very real,” her mother, Olga, replied. “My mother was one and both of my sisters, as well. My father was a wizard.”

“Mine as well,” said Henrik, her father. “Both of my parents were Magics. Your mother and I, however…we are Squibs.”

“What’s a Squib?” Anna asked, ever curious.

“A Non-Magic born to a Witch and Wizard,” explained Henrik. “Like a Muggleborn, who is a Magic born to Muggles.”

“What’s a Muggle?” Anna asked, head tilted to the side.

“A Non-Magic born to Non-Magics,” Olga informed her. “Muggles, unlike Squibs, have no Magic lineage.”

“Oh…am I a witch too, Mummy?” she asked.

“We’re…we’re not sure, dear,” she replied. “Perhaps. Though we certainly hope not.”

“Is it a bad thing?” Elsa asked, frowning. “That I’m a witch.”

“No, of course not!” Olga exclaimed, but there was something in her voice that told Elsa that she wasn’t being completely honest. “It’s very good, in fact!” she insisted. “It means that, soon, you will receive a letter to Hogwarts.”

Elsa wrinkled her nose. “What’s that?” she asked.

“It’s a school for young witches and wizards,” Henrik explained. “All of our brothers and sisters attended. Our parents, too.”

“Will I go?” Anna asked.

“We don’t know, dear,” Olga sighed. “We’ll have to see if you’ve any magic like your sister’s. Until then, perhaps it’s time we start homeschooling you, Elsa.”

“What?” Elsa gasped. “But why?”

“We can’t risk any Muggles learning about your powers; it could reveal the Wizarding World and we could all be severely punished for it,” Olga explained.

“But all my friends!” Elsa argued.

“If you wish to return to Muggle school,” said Henrik, “you will have to learn to control your magic. Until then…” he sighed, “we’ll get you a tutor.”

The tone in his voice told Elsa that there would be no point in arguing.

Now, she stood in the foyer of a grand castle, wearing long black robes and clutching a long, carved stick that her parents had called a ‘wand’. She’d read about them in storybooks—wizards used them to cast spells—but she’d never experienced the rush of power that flooded her at the first contact.

There were other children like herself, all dressed in robes, all clutching similar wands of varying lengths and still she could not believe that this was in any way real.

“Good evening, young witches and wizards!” a booming voice said from the top of a tall stairwell. “Please ascend.” The children did as they were told and Elsa fought to find the source of the deep voice from where she stood, but there were much taller students around her that made it impossible. Right in front of her, in fact, was a ridiculously tall girl with long red hair and a rather gangly body. The only way Elsa would be able to see over her was if she were flying, which she’d found out she was not yet allowed to do and, even then, it would only happen on a broomstick—which she found rather odd.

“Stop!” the voice boomed once the small crowd reached the top of the stairs. Elsa bumped into the taller girl’s back and she turned back to blink down at her.

“Sorry,” Elsa mumbled, feeling her cheeks flood with heat.

The girl gave her a kind smile. “Don’t worry about it,” she said, then turned back to look up at…whomever it was that was speaking to them all.

“My name,” the voice said, “is Professor Roy Montgomery; I am the Headmaster here at Hogwarts and I would like to welcome you all, personally, to the school. In a moment, you will follow me and Professor Victoria Gates,” he paused and Elsa imagined him nodding to another professor, “into the Great Hall, where you will be sorted into your House. After which, you will join your Housemates at your table and enjoy a welcoming feast!”

The crowd around her cheered and Elsa smiled, clapping a few times before she was shoved as the crowd began to move again, right into the Great Hall.

_The Sorting_

“Please listen carefully for your name. When it is called, come up and take a seat on the stool; the Sorting Hat will be placed on your head and you will be sorted into one of the four houses: Gryffindor, Slytherin, Ravenclaw, or Hufflepuff.” As each house was called, cheers rose up from the appropriate table.

“First name is,” Professor Gates read from a long piece of parchment, “Zachary Addy!”

A young boy with robes that were far too big on his frame appeared from the crowd as it parted for him. He looked around nervously and curiously as he stepped up to the stool and climbed on, situating himself atop it. Gates gave him a kind smile before placing the hat down on his head. It slipped over his eyes and there were a few snickers that could be heard throughout the room.

Then the hat came alive and all the First Years gasped.

“Intelligent, I see,” it said in a gravelly voice. “Yes, _very_ intelligent. There would be no other choice than _Ravenclaw_!”

The Ravenclaw table erupted in cheers and Gates lifted the hat off the young boy’s head, causing his shaggy brown hair to stand straight up with static. But he didn’t seem to care as he ran off towards his table, where he was welcomed immediately with open arms and claps on the back.

“Katherine Beckett!” Gates called, smiling as Kate Beckett walked up to the stool and cautiously sat down, clutching her wand.

“Don’t be frightened, young one,” the hat soothed. “This will not hurt one bit. And I can see a lot of bravery in you; kindness, too. A Jack of All Trades, it would seem, though your intelligence wins out in the end, I see because we have another _Ravenclaw_!”

Kate’s cheeks pinked as the crowd went wild. She glanced over at Gryffindor table and smiled back at Jane Rizzoli, who gave her two thumbs up and mouthed, ‘Congrats!’ to her. She smiled and waved as she took her place next to Zack Addy, who welcomed her much the way the rest of the Ravenclaws had welcomed him. Across from her sat an older girl with blonde hair and green eyes that almost matched her own. She had dimples in her grin that made Kate feel safe and warm.

“Hello,” she said, offering her hand. “My name is Maura. Maura Isles.”

“Kate Beckett,” Kate replied. “Nice to meet you.”

_Maura Isles…why did that name sound familiar?_

“Richard Castle!” Gates called out and Kate turned to watch the boy she’d become tentative friends with on her first train ride to Hogwarts as he walked through the crowd to take his own seat. He was mouthing something and crossing his fingers. Kate watched him, curiously.

“Think we’ll be three for three?” a dark-skinned girl with curly black hair said to her friend a few seats down.

“Perhaps,” her friend, a tall boy with long brown hair tied back replied, “but he doesn’t look much like a Ravenclaw to me; perhaps a—“

“ _Gryffindor_!” the hat shouted out. The boy smiled.

“Exactly,” he said, grinning as Rick Castle, Gryffindor First Year, took his seat next to Jane and Frankie Rizzoli at the Gryffindor table. They both patted him on the back. Kate was happy that at least he had some friends there already. She hoped that she and Maura would become good friends as well.

“Jack Hodgins,” Professor Gates called next. A short boy with curly reddish brown hair and bright blue eyes stepped up and walked confidently to the stool, hopping up. The hat seemed to have made a decision the second it was placed on his head.

“This one is no contest,” it said. “As natural as your blood and birthright. Ambitious, fiercely loyal to your friends, and cunning; you, my dear boy, are a _Slytherin_!”

The Slytherins cheered and welcomed Jack to their table. He shook hands with Mattie Belmonde and Glinda Upland and joined their ranks as he sat.

“Next is Laura Isles!” Gates called out.

Kate turned to look at Maura, who sighed. “Yes, that is my sister,” she said. “And yes, our names rhyme; it’s a rather long story.” Kate nodded, smirking as she turned to watch a smaller blonde with big brown eyes and a wide smile receive the hat, which lay crooked over her head, making her laugh.

“Fun-loving young woman. Kind and compassionate and brave. Normally, I would call you a Gryffindor, but, in light of the goodness of your heart and your moral reasoning…I will have to go with _Hufflepuff!_ ”

The Hufflepuff table burst into cheers and applause as Laura practically skipped to them. A few embraced her warmly and Maura cheered for her younger sister, giving the girl a happy wave. Laura, of course, waved back.

“Susan LaFontaine!”

The First Year cringed at the sound of their first name. They hadn’t gone by Susan in over a year and while their parents respected that, others often forgot. They stayed silent, however, as they approached the stool and sat down. Their hair was cut short and presented fiery red in color, just the way they liked it.

“You hold more intelligence in your brain and your heart than your years should allow,” said the hat. “You are often misunderstood, but never let that stand in the way of who you truly are; admirable. I could place you in any house and it would be the right choice for you, I believe, but for today you need to choose one. Which house do you choose?”

“Ravenclaw,” LaFontaine whispered.

“And so it shall be done,” agreed the hat. “ _Ravenclaw!”_

Once again, the Ravenclaw table cheered. LaFontaine smiled and made their way to the appropriate table, sitting down next to Maura, who congratulated them.

“Welcome to Ravenclaw, Susan!” she said and they sighed.

“Actually,” they said, calmly. “I prefer to be called LaFontaine.”

Maura nodded easily. “Welcome, then, LaFontaine.”

LaF smiled.

“Danielle Lawrence!” called Gates.

The tall girl moved from Elsa’s sight and took long strides until she reached the stool and sat down, far easier than most of her classmates had been able to. Gates placed the hat on her head and they waited.

“This is a no-brainer,” the hat chuckled. “ _Gryffindor!_ ”

Danny smiled and raised her arms as her table cheered. When Gates removed the hat from the top of her head, she ran towards them with a large grin, throwing high-fives up in the air.

“Henry Mills!”

A small boy with big brown eyes scurried up to the stool and climbed on, kicking his legs excitedly as he waited for the hat to drop onto his head. From Slytherin, his older sister, Regina, watched with adoration and the sinking realization that he was likely not be in her house.

“ _Gryffindor_!” the hat cried out and Regina nodded, making a mental note to talk to Emma Swan once they were all unpacked and classes could begin. Somebody had to watch over her beloved brother.

Lanie Parish was the next name called. The girl was petite with curly black hair that framed her dark face and big, light brown eyes. She caught the attention of a particular Slytherin boy right away and he crossed his fingers in the hopes that she would be sent his way. Sadly, it didn’t seem as if anybody up there was listening to him as the hat called out, _“Ravenclaw_!”

Lanie joined Kate at the table and they began talking about everything and nothing all at once. Instant best friends, it would seem. At Slytherin table, Javier Esposito frowned.

“Lola Perry!”

Another redhead—this own with red curls tied back from her face—walked up to the stool and took her seat. She waved to LaFontaine, who waved excitedly back and crossed their fingers. They pouted when the hat called out Gryffindor.

A few names came before ‘Rizzoli’ and Jane held her breath the entire time. Each Rizzoli had been a Gryffindor in the past, so there was really no need to worry so much, but still she did. Because there was always a first time for everything.

Finally, Carmilla was called and the girl walked up, took her seat, and received the hat. It took only ten seconds for it to call out Slytherin, and a tenth of that time for both Jane and Tommy to start cursing under their breath. Carmilla frowned at her siblings as she walked past their table to the Slytherins and took a seat. They welcomed her with handshakes and polite smiles. Mattie even congratulated her.

“Elsa Snow!” called Gates and Elsa’s heartrate picked up as she made her way to the stool. She was one of the last to be called and she cursed her last name. The hat slipped slightly over her eyes and she closed them, wishing to just disappear.

“Power like I’ve never seen,” whispered the hat in her ear. “More than you can handle, I bet. But don’t worry; you can learn. And I can see how willing you are to learn. You must be a _Ravenclaw_!”

The Ravenclaws cheered and welcomed Elsa, whose face flushed bright red as she joined them and was introduced to more people and names than she could possibly be expected to remember. But something about it made her feel warm inside.

_Acceptance_ , her mind supplied.


	3. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Rizzolis and Isles and Mills

**Chapter Three**

**_Carmilla Rizzoli_ **

“Slytherin!”

Her heart dropped. Surely, this was a mistake. She couldn’t really be in…no. Both of her parents and her older siblings had all been sorted into Gryffindor. How could _she_ be in…in… _Slytherin?_

“Go on, dear,” Professor Gates prodded with a soft nudge at the small of her back. “Go join your classmates. They’re all waiting for you.”

Carmilla sighed, frowning as she climbed down from the stool and made her way, slowly, to the Slytherin table, sparing a forlorn glance at her older siblings, who looked about as happy as she felt. She wanted to cry, the shame of it all too much for her. Jane had always said how horrible Slytherins were. Great big bullies, she said, like Matska Belmonde, who thought that they were better than everybody because the majority of Slytherins were purebloods from influential families. And while it was true that the Rizzoli family was pureblood, they were quite far from “influential”—at least in the way most people meant.

Still, as Carmilla frowned, on the verge of tears, Jane tried to make her smile with a double thumbs up and a smile of her own. She nudged Frankie, getting him to do the same. Rizzolis were nothing if not completely supportive of one another.

When she sat down at the table, the curly headed boy from before, Jack Hodgins, greeted her with a handshake. “Congrats,” he said. “Good to have you in our house.” Carmilla shook his hand back and gave him a polite smile. He was probably just saying that. Hodginses didn’t typically mix with lower-class families like Rizzolis. But then more Slytherins started to welcome her to the house.

A small blonde girl with startlingly blue eyes, who was sitting with a taller girl with curiously green skin, reached for her hand. “Glinda Upland,” she introduced. “Of the Upland Uplands.” Carmilla had no idea what that meant but she seemed sweet enough. Her friend reached out as well.

“Elphaba Thropp,” she greeted. “My family isn’t as well-known as Glinda’s.”

“That’s because her father is a famous Muggle inventor,” Glinda chimed in.

“He invents Muggles?” Carmilla joked and her half of the table burst into laughter. She flushed bright red. It wasn’t really all that funny, but laughter was better than hissing and boos—which, honestly, she’d been expecting.

“You’re a funny one, Rizzoli,” a familiar voice said to her right and she turned, her eyes widening as Matska Belmonde came into view, an amused smirk on her face. Immediately, Carmilla’s defenses went up, as they always did whenever the girl was around. But instead of mocking her, Mattie just held out her hand. “Welcome to Slytherin,” she purred, giving Carmilla a cool, crooked grin. Carmilla hesitated for only a moment before shaking her hand.

“Thank you.”

**_Regina Mills_ **

When the feast was served, Regina rose from the Slytherin table and snuck over to the Gryffindors, right where Emma was sitting with Mulan and the Rizzolis.

“Swan!” she greeted, startling the blonde.

Emma’s look of surprise quickly changed into a soft smile when she saw the Slytherin, her cheeks going a tiny bit pink. “Regina,” she said, “hey.”

Regina ignored the stutter in her chest at the soft tone and instead focused on the task at hand. “My little brother is a Gryffindor,” she said and Emma blinked at her, then turned to look over at Henry, who was laughing at a fellow First year, who had painted his face with frosting to look like a clown.

“Okay…” she said. “So?”

“So, somebody has to watch out for him since, obviously, I can’t.”

“And you want that to be me?” Emma asked, her cheeks reddening further.

“Of course! Who else?” Regina immediately realized how that sounded and pressed her lips together. There was no way to take it back, though, so she just kept going. “All of you, actually,” she said, looking at Mulan and the Rizzolis. “Make sure he stays out of trouble and nobody gives him too much of it, okay? He’s a pretty sensitive kid.”

“Just like his sister, huh?” Emma joked, her eyes twinkling up at Regina, who glared at her.

“I will not hesitate to hurt you, Swan.” Emma snorted and reached for her hand, squeezing it and causing a shock to run up Regina’s arm.

“We’ll keep him safe for you,” she said. “I promise.”

Regina swallowed thickly, staring down at their joined hands for a moment, before finally coming back to herself. She snatched her hand out of Emma’s grip and backed away from the table. “Er, thanks,” she mumbled as she headed back to the Slytherins. Emma watched her with a crooked smile, then turned back to her conversation with her friends.

“You are so smitten,” Mulan cooed at her and Emma stuck her tongue out at her, making the girl laugh. She didn’t deny it, though.

When Regina got back to her own table, she couldn’t take her eyes off her hand as it tingled atop the table.

**_Laura Isles_ **

“Maura!” Laura exclaimed as she ran to her sister’s side. Maura turned around just in time to catch her in a flying, albeit awkward, hug. The two girls laughed together, squeezing rather tightly. They were both adopted into their family, but they were as close as any two sisters got—even in appearance. You would never know that they were adopted but for the fact that they looked nothing like either of their parents. Sometimes Maura thought they might be adopted from the same family, as well.

“My little Hufflepuff,” she laughed, pressing a kiss to Laura’s cheek. “How does it feel?”

“Fantastic!” Laura said, then frowned. “Only, I would have liked to be a Ravenclaw, like you.”

“I know,” Maura sighed, “but I’m sure you’ll meet plenty of nice people in Hufflepuff; they’re very kind over there and your Head of House is a beautiful singer.”

“Professor Beale sings?” Laura asked, her brown eyes getting wide.

Maura nodded with a smile. “Quite well,” she confirmed. “So don’t worry. Besides, you can always hang out with us Ravenclaws, whenever you want.”

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely,” a dark-skinned girl said, leaning over the table. The girl next to her, who had chestnut girls and clear green eyes, nodded as well.

“You see?” Maura said with a soft smile at her little sister. “And you have Jane and Frankie in Gryffindor and I believe Jane’s younger sister is in Slytherin House.”

“A _Slytherin_?” Laura gasped. “Aren’t they quite mean?”

“Not all of them,” Maura said. “Mother was a Slytherin, remember?”

“Mother is not so nice,” Laura pointed out.

Maura sighed. It was true. Their mother was not a soft and overtly attentive one, but Maura knew that she loved her children very much and would do anything for them, even though she was often too busy to spend much time with them.

“She still loves us,” Maura said, decisively, “and she is a good person, isn’t she?”

“I suppose,” Laura sighed.

“And if Carmilla is anything like her sister, I’m certain that you two will get along just fine, because you are just like me.”

“I’m not as intelligent as you, though,” Laura groused.

“And I’m not as kind-hearted and trusting as you,” Maura retorted. “We all have our strengths.”

“And our weaknesses,” Laura added.

“But we’re all equal in one way or another.”

The two sisters smiled at each other and embraced. Laura had no idea what she would do without the love and guidance of her beloved sister and, unbeknownst to her, Maura felt the exact same way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's so short but I have class and I didn't want anybody to think that I had abandoned this one. I haven't. I'll try to update more frequently.


	4. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emma Swan

**Chapter Four**

**_Emma Swan_ **

She was a foster kid for her entire life; abandoned by her parents on the side of a busy road, though nobody ever saw them or their car. She had nothing of them except for an old baby blanket with her name stitched into it: Emma. Her name was supposed to mean _‘whole’_ , but Emma often felt like she was missing pieces of herself. Her mother and father, her real family…

She’d had over a dozen foster families by the time she’d gotten her letter to Hogwarts. At first, her foster parents at the time thought that it was a joke and punished her by locking her in the closet for a full day. But when she came out, there were a dozen more in their mailbox and each one said the exact same thing: that she was a witch.

Still, though, Emma’s parents thought that she was trying to pull a prank on them and that she’d gotten her friends from school to deliver the letters while she was in the closet. Emma had wanted to remind them that she had no friends (nobody wanted to be friends with the weird foster girl), but they refused to listen to her and punished her even further. This time it only lasted a couple hours as a man half the size of their house appeared and ripped the closet door off of its hinges.

At first, Emma had been rightly afraid of him, cowering in the back corner as her foster mother’s screams echoed off the walls. But then the kind giant had smiled at her and knelt down to her level.

“’Ello there, Miss Swan,” he whispered. “Now don’ be scared. I’m no’ gonna hurt ya. I’m ‘ere to save ya.”

“Who are you?” Emma asked, shivering.

The man stuck out one of his big, beefy hands. “Meh name’s Hagrid,” he greeted. “Right nice to meet you, little Miss Swan.”

“How do you know my name?” Emma asked, tilting her head up at him.

“Well, it’s right ‘ere on this paper,” he answered, pulling out another one of the envelopes with her name and address written on it. Emma’s eyes widened at the sight and she looked up at Hagrid.

“You’re the one that’s been sending me those letters?”

“Not me, no,” Hagrid laughed. “Meh boss, Headmaster Roy Montgomery. Good man, good man. ‘e wants you to come to ‘is school.”

“Hogwarts?” Emma asked, remembering the odd sounding name. “It’s a real place? This isn’t just a mean prank?”

“’Course not!” Hagrid affirmed. “Montgomery would’ve never…not if he’d known.” He frowned and turned his big body around. “Would yeh stop hittin’ me already? It ain’t doin’ no good.”

Emma heard her foster mother scream and chuckled. He turned back to her with a kind smile. “Now,” he said. “It’s completely up to you if ye would like to come with me to Hogwarts; you don’t need anybody’s permission. Least of all, these nuts.” He pointed a thumb over his shoulder and Emma peered around his body to see her foster parents cowering together.

“What would I learn at Hogwarts?” Emma asked. “Would I be safe?”

“Magic,” Hagrid answered. “And Hogwarts is the safest place in the world…well, it is now. We had a little trouble years and years ago.” He shook his head. “Not important. But, yes, you would be very safe.”

“And I wouldn’t have any more foster parents? Nobody to tell me what to do or lock me in a closet?”

“None of that,” Hagrid growled. “We can even set you up with a good set of parents in the Wizarding World; our system is far superior to Muggles’.”

“What’s a Muggle?” Emma asked.

Hagrid backed away and pointed to her foster parents. “They,” he said, “are Muggles.”

Emma nodded in understanding, stepping out of the closet to regard her foster parents, frowning at them. _So_ , she thought, _Muggles are cowards then? Muggles are awful people? Or just human?_

“I don’t want to live with Muggles,” she told Hagrid. “I’ll come with you.”

Hagrid smiled brightly. “Wonderful!” he exclaimed. “Go on and git your things. I’ll wait.”

“We’re leaving now?” Emma asked. “Couldn’t I wash up first? I’ve been in there for hours.”

“How many hours?” Hagrid asked, frowning.

“Eight,” Emma asked, calculating in her head.

“Do ye have to use the restroom?”

“No, they gave me a bucket.”

Hagrid’s face turned red. “A BUCKET?!” he roared, turning to the couple. “What kind of _animals_ are ye?” They cowered further, as if trying to disappear. “I ought to…”

He raised his umbrella and pointed it at them, but Emma’s tiny hand reached for his wrist. “No!” she exclaimed. “Please don’t! You’ll get in so much trouble and it’s not right!”

He paused, turning to look down at her. “You’ve a good heart, ye know?” he sighed, putting his umbrella down. “And a wise mind.”

“Thank you.”

Hagrid nodded, then motioned to the stairs. “Go on and git yer things. And wash up a bit. We’ll find you a place to stay once we reach Diagon Alley.”

“What’s that?” Emma asked as she started towards the stairs.

Hagrid smiled. “Ye’ll see.”

And she did. Once they’d made it out of the ‘Muggle World’ as Hagrid put it, they were thrust immediately into a world full of amazing sights and sounds and spells. Emma watched in amazement as one woman walked down the street with an array of bags floating along behind her, in midair. She’d stopped to stare at the woman and Hagrid pulled her along after him, confused as to why she was so enthralled by a ‘simple levitation spell’.

“I’ve never seen anything like it,” Emma explained. “It’s _brilliant_!”

“Ye haven’t seen nothin’ yet!” Hagrid laughed and showed her the way to a trick shop, where she was even more flabbergasted by an array of magical pranks that small children were playing with each other, encouraged by the two redheaded owners of the shop. Hagrid greeted them by name and Emma found out that they were brothers (one of them was missing an ear).

By the end of August, Emma liked to think she was completely immersed in the magic world, having gotten her wand at Ollivander’s and all of her textbooks and a set of brand new robes (gifted by Hagrid, since she had no money to speak of and he was acting as her temporary guardian) and a small owl that liked to perch on her shoulder and absolutely hated to be in his cage. Emma named him August, after the month in which he came to her. He was very affectionate and liked to nibble on her ear.

On September 1st, Hagrid woke her very early and helped her get ready for her first trip to Hogwarts. He got her to King’s Cross with all of her things nearly an hour before she was set to board the train, but gave her rather curious instructions with how to get to her platform.

“Run at the wall?” she asked. “Won’t I be hurt?”

“Not at all, little Swan,” he replied with affection. “You are a magic,” he said. “You should be just fine and you’ll get to your platform in plenty of time. Trust me.”

Emma did trust Hagrid—even if he was a rather odd giant.

Doing as she said, Emma gathered all her courage and ran, full force, at the wall, closing her eyes tightly when she got very close, expecting to bump right into it at any second. Instead, however, she bumped into another cart and nearly fell sideways when she rebounded.

“Hey!” another voice exclaimed, causing her to open her eyes. “Watch it!”

It was another girl, about Emma’s age, with short black hair and brown eyes that seemed to have a fire in them. She was very pretty, Emma noticed, and the thought made her blush.

“Regina, be polite,” the little boy standing next to her said, a stern look on his face. He must have been about nine at the time, with big pink cheeks and brown eyes just like hers. His hair was a much lighter brown than the girl’s was, though.

The girl—Regina—looked down at him and sighed, her features softening. “Sorry,” she said to Emma. “Are you okay?” Her teeth were half-gritted, but Emma could tell she was trying and that was enough.

“I’m fine,” Emma assured her. “I’m just…well, I never knew that was possible.”

“You’re a Muggle-born?” Regina asked, surprised.

Emma shook her head, then paused. “I don’t…know,” she said. “I never really knew my parents.”

“That sounds sad,” the little boy said with a pout. He shook his sister’s hand. “Doesn’t it, Regina?”

“Yes,” Regina agreed. “It does, Henry. But we mustn’t show pity; remember that.”

“Okay.” As if his sister’s words were law. It made Emma smile.

“Are you a First Year, too?” she asked.

Regina nodded. “Yes. My mother hopes for Slytherin, like her. Do you have any preference yet?”

Emma shrugged. “I’d like a nice house,” she said. “Hagrid didn’t tell me much about them. Oh, I’m Emma, by the way!” She stuck out her hand. “Emma Swan.”

“Regina Mills,” Regina replied, shaking her hand. “This is Henry.” She placed her hand on the boy’s shoulder.

“Nice to meet you, both,” Emma said.

“Likewise,” Henry replied, shaking her hand. Emma chuckled when he shook too hard and he giggled. He was a cute kid.

“Regina! Henry!” a voice called from behind them and Regina’s face fell.

“We have to go,” she told Emma. “Our mother is calling.” She started to turn away, then paused. “I’ll see you on the train, Emma Swan,” she said, then turned and walked away, holding Henry’s hand as they pushed her cart together. Henry smiled at her over his shoulder and she waved to him.

It was then that she decided Hogwarts wouldn’t be as scary as she’d thought.

The entire trip to the castle where her school was set was mostly a blur, but Emma remembered sitting with a girl with curly black hair, named Jane Rizzoli, and a small blonde curl, named Maura Isles. The girls were both redfaced when Emma entered and, at first, she thought that she had interrupted something between them, but Jane was eager to pull her into their conversation. As was Maura. And though Emma found it odd, she didn’t really mind making such quick friends.

Now, she sat at the Gryffindor table, across from Jane—a fellow Gryffindor—and her little brother, as well as Mulan, a mutual Gryffindor whose hair was cut short in a pixie, like Emma’s adoptive mother, Mary Margaret Blanchard.

Emma smiled at the thought of the woman who’d taken her in when she was just a First Year. Along with her new husband, David, the young couple had welcomed her warmly that Christmas when Emma was made to leave Hogwarts for the holiday season. Hagrid had assured her that they were perfectly nice people and he was correct. The first thing Mary Margaret had done was pull her into a warm embrace and tell Emma how happy she was that she would be staying with them. Then, for the first time ever, Emma received a Christmas present.

She reached for the snowflake charm that hung from the chain around her neck; her parents’ first gift to her. David, her father, had thought it fitting for the season and told her it would be a reminder that she had somewhere she belonged; with them. Emma had teared up and hugged them both as tightly as she could thankful that she’d finally found her forever family.

It had been two years now and Emma still had that charm, still had her parents, and still had all the friends she’d made that first year. Even Regina, who was still tentative to call what they had a friendship. Mostly that was because of the prejudice that existed between Gryffindors and Slytherins. Emma didn’t really care too much for it, since she was raised mostly by Muggles, but it seemed rather important to Jane, who—until recently—claimed to never know a Slytherin she could trust.

But then her little sister became a Slytherin and her opinion seemed to change.

It had been two weeks since the Sorting and classes were well underway. Emma was sitting in the Great Hall with Jane and Frankie and Mulan and, their newest addition, Henry Mills—Regina’s baby brother, whom she was very protective about. Another First Year, Rick Castle, had been sitting with them, until he spied a particular Ravenclaw girl and left to talk to her. Jane Rizzoli had watched him with a knowing grin.

“He is so smitten,” she told the others.

“With who?” Henry asked, his feet kicking under the table, toes just barely scuffing the floor.

“Kate Beckett,” Frankie informed him. “The Ravenclaw girl he’s trying to impress.”

“But she’s not falling for it,” Jane snickered and they all looked over just in time to see the girl’s eyes roll as Castle said something surely ridiculous. He was a real goob, that boy.

“I think it’s pretty sweet,” Emma defended. “At least _he’s_ going for what he wants.” She looked pointedly at Jane and Mulan, both of whom glared back.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Jane growled, elbowing Frankie when he snorted.

“And, FYI, the one that _I_ like already has a boyfriend, so it’s a no-go,” Mulan reminded her.

“That doesn’t mean she’s—“

“She’s what, Swan?” Emma jumped and turned around, her cheeks blooming bright red.

“Regina!” she exclaimed. “Uh, hey! What are you doing here?”

One perfect eyebrow rose at the question. “It’s lunch time, Swan,” she said. “Don’t you remember? Besides, why shouldn’t I sit with my younger brother?” She smiled at Henry as she sat down next to him, wedging herself next to Emma so that their shoulders brushed. Emma felt a tingle run through her entire body.

“N-no reason,” Emma stuttered, looking down at her plate. She kicked Jane under the table when she snickered. Thankfully, Regina didn’t seem to notice, too busy fussing over Henry.

“Three kinds of pudding?” she asked. “Really? You’re going to make yourself ill, Henry.”

“So?” Henry asked, petulantly. “It’s so good! Try some!” He held up a forkful and Regina sighed, taking a bite.

“Delicious,” she said, though she winced slightly. There were mostly fruits and vegetables on her plate and Emma knew that she was more of a health nut than anything else. But it made her heart flutter to think that Regina would force a smile through a mouthful of pudding just to make her brother happy.

And she didn’t even want to think about what that meant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More to come soon! I'm just trying to set up all of their backstories for this universe and make sure I don't contradict myself. I have charts. It's insane.


	5. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elphaba Thropp

Chapter Five

**_Elphaba Thropp_ **

From the second she was born, Elphaba knew that she was different—in more ways than one.

For starters, she was born a sickly green color that had caused her mother to scream, her father to turn away, and the nurse who birthed her to faint, with her still in her arms. Thankfully, she wasn’t seriously hurt, but her parents never really could get over the strange phenomenon of her color.

Perhaps that was why she tried so hard in school and was as pleasant a child as she could be. She tried her hardest to do well and be polite and stay out of trouble. Though trouble always seemed to follow her wherever she went.

Such as in school, where she was teased mercilessly by her classmates for her odd complexion. Which only made her grow greener with anger and embarrassment. Still, she stayed quiet and focused on her schoolwork and made certain that she stayed out of her parents’ way when she was home.

Her existence seemed more of an issue for her father than for her mother, who came to adore the child. Melena Thropp loved her daughter despite all the whispers about her strangeness and did everything she could to make Elphaba feel loved and accepted and, above all else, _normal_.

It got harder when they found out that Elphaba was allergic to water. And harder still when they found out that Melena was pregnant with a second child and her husband, Frex, forced her to chew milk flowers, day and night, as a sort of precaution. Of course, he never came right out and said what they were for, but Elphaba knew. And hurt.

Especially when the milk flowers forced Melena into early labor and the brand new child was born with twisted legs, via C-section. And, if that weren’t already enough, something went wrong during the surgery and Melena never woke again.

For this, Frex blamed Elphaba—even though she was really just a little girl when it happened—and taxed her with the responsibility of taking care of her younger sister, Nessarose, who was perfect in every way, except she hadn’t the use of her legs.

In fact, the day she got her letter to Hogwarts, Elphaba almost refused to go, insistent that she stay and care for Nessa. Frex wouldn’t hear of it, though.

“The least you can do for this family and carry on the legacy,” he’d spat at her when she told him her plans to stay nearby. “Twelve generations of Thropps have gone to Hogwarts; we’ve been there practically since it opened! You will not be the weak link in the chain if I have anything to say about it.”

“But, Father!” Elphaba had argued. “What about Nessa? Who’ll look after her?”

“I’ll hire somebody,” he told her. “She’ll probably be better off with somebody who knows what they’re doing, anyway. Rather than a worthless child.”

The words had cut Elphaba to the bone and she was quiet, biting her cheek to keep from crying.

She didn’t speak to her father again until she left for Hogwarts, and that was only to say goodbye. She only told Nessa that she loved her and to be a good girl for the nannies.

When she got to Platform 9¾, Elphaba ignored all the looks she got from many of the First Years and their parents. The looks of confusion and fear and disgust as she walked right by them with all of her luggage. She didn’t care any longer about their disdain for her; at 11 years old, she was used to it by now.

She rode in a full train car, but she might as well have been all alone for all the attention she got from her fellow car mates. When she arrived at Hogwarts, she was greeted by a rather large man who called himself Hagrid and told her that she was his favorite shade of green in the world. Usually, Elphaba might have thought he was being mean or teasing her, but his smile was genuine, so she just thanked him politely and moved on.

It was a strange feeling. Almost as strange as floating across a lake to what looked to be a large castle. Hogwarts, she knew, from her mother’s stories. Melena had been a Ravenclaw; Frex, a Slytherin. Elphaba wouldn’t have minded either, but especially her father’s Alma Mater.

Maybe it would finally make him proud.

As she stood in the foyer with the rest of the First Years, Elphaba felt self-conscious as the others whispered around her and nudged one another, sparing glances at her every now and then. She was used to this, of course, but her mother had always told her that Hogwarts was a safe place, where one could be themself and not worry about being outcast. Perhaps, Mama had been wrong.

That’s what Elphaba thought as they were led into the Great Hall, where other students were sitting, creating a buzz of noise around them. One particular table in particular seemed to notice them and Elphaba knew from the colored ties and scarves that they were Slytherins, the stark green and silver popping out at her as she walked by. A few of them smiled at her, almost kindly, and she smiled back, then pushed her glasses up her nose and continued on to a tall stool, where a hat sat.

It smiled at them and the entire group gasped in confusion and delight. A petite woman in professor’s robes looked down at them over her glasses and smiled.

“Welcome,” she said, “to Hogwarts. Here, you will be sorted into your respective houses. There are four, which many of you may have heard about from your parents; Gryffindor, Slytherin, Ravenclaw, and Hufflepuff. In a few moments, I will call your name and you will come up here to be sorted by the Sorting Hat. The Hat will decide which house you belong in based on the traits that he can see within you. After you have been sorted, you will join your classmates at your tables for the feast. Remember, there is no evil house, and no house that is above any other. You are all equal, but different. Nobody is above anybody else.”

One of the girls near to Elphaba snorted and she turned, glaring at the dark-skinned girl, who glared back.

“What are you looking at, toad?” she hissed and Elphaba wanted nothing more than to plant her fist in the girl’s face. She’d never felt that kind of rage before. It scared her and she quickly turned away and waited for the first name to be called.

She watched, patiently, as each of her classmates was called up to the hat and counted the ones sorted in Slytherin and Ravenclaw. The mean girl’s name, she found out, was Matska Belmonde and she walked with her nose in the air, sitting down on the stool with delicacy. The hat had barely brushed her perfectly combed hair when it cried out “SLYTHERIN” and was lifted off. Matska hopped off the stool with a proud smile and made her way towards the cheering Slytherins.

The second girl to be accepted was named Jessica Jones. She had long black hair tied in a braid down her back and had been holding the hand of a young blonde girl before she stepped out of the tight crowd and up to the stool. Elphaba remembered her taking a deep breath before she sat down. The hat stayed on her head for a total of twenty seconds (Elphaba had counted), before it called out Slytherin and she hopped down, running to her table.

Elphaba thought she might have seen tears in her eyes.

Regina Mills was the next Slytherin and Elphaba noticed that she was far more timid than either of the two previous girls to take her spot on the stool. Another blonde girl, standing right next to her, smiled up at Regina, almost wistfully. When the hat called out Slytherin, she cheered along with the table. The unsorted First Years stared at her. Elphaba smiled.

Elphaba was the fourth Slytherin called. The hat had deliberated for close to a minute on her, trying to place her in Ravenclaw, despite her insistence on being in Slytherin. It finally relented, though it warned her that she did not truly belong in the house if her only reasoning was to please her father. Slytherins did nothing just to please others.

Still, her father would likely be just a little bit proud of her for getting into Slytherin and that was enough for her. At the table, she shook hands with older Slytherins and was congratulated and welcomed into their house—more accepting than her father had ever been to her. Nobody seemed all that bothered with her color.

The last girl to join their table (and it had been only females, it seemed that got into Slytherin that year) was Galinda Upland. She sat down right next to Elphaba and turned to her with a polite smile.

“Galinda Upland,” she said. “Of the Upland Uplands.”

“I’m not familiar,” Elphaba replied honestly, “but my father might be.” They shook hands.

“Oh, you’re a Thropp, aren’t you?” Galinda gasped.

“Um…yes.”

“Our fathers are very close friends,” the petite blonde informed her, green eyes shining. “Uncle Frex is at my house all the time.”

“Oh. He’s never mentioned you before. But, then again, we don’t really speak all that often.”

“That’s alright. We’re friends now and that’s all that counts, right?”

“Friends?” Elphaba asked, surprised. “We are?”

“Of course we are!” Galinda giggled. “We’re practically family!”

A pale slender hand wrapped around Elphaba’s green one and she stared down at them in awe.

“Mind if I call you Elfie?” Galinda asked.

Elphaba frowned. “Please don’t.”

 

“Elfie!”

Elphaba’s head snapped up as Glinda (she’d dropped the first ‘A’ from her name after so many of their professors mispronounced it) walked up to her in the library. Elphaba frowned and pressed her finger to her mouth.

“Glinda,” she whispered, “hush! This is a library.”

“Oh, nobody gives a hoot!” Glinda replied, sitting down next to her with a pile of parchment and ink and books and leaning her chin on them. “Only two weeks into classes and we’ve already got a mountain of homework. How do they expect us to finish this all in one week?”

“I’m done,” Elphaba told her, sinking back into her book.

“You what?!” Glinda gasped. “Let me see!”

“I don’t have it with me right now, Glin,” Elphaba sighed. “I left it in my room.”

“Then why the heck are you here right now if you ain’t doin’ homework?”

“I’m reading.”

Glinda frowned at her and tilted her head. “Why?” 


	6. Peggy and Angie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angie Martinelli and Peggy Carter

**_Angie Martinelli_ **

Angela Rosalie Martinelli was born in Atrani, Italy, the only daughter in the small family of four. Her older brother, Tony, was five when she was born and spent most of his childhood keeping her out of trouble, protecting her at all costs. It annoyed little Angie to no end as she assured him, and everybody that would listen, that she was more than capable of defending herself.

Their family immigrated to England after their grandmother’s death, when a sizeable inheritance left them with enough money to buy a slightly larger home, in which Angie and Tony could each have their own rooms. They could even afford singing lessons for the young girl, who aspired to be an actress—much to her parents’ unease (they would rather she marry a doctor or a lawyer). Those aspirations continued to grow as she did, never quite leaving her.

Not even when she received a letter to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

At first, Angie had thought it a prank Tony was playing on her, reminiscent of the games they would play as children, when he pretended that he was a magical wizard and “save her” (the princess) from the evil dragon. She punched him for it and his shout of pain had brought her mother into the family room, asking them what was going on. When Angie showed her the letter, Isabella Martinelli had practically squealed, picking her daughter up and twirling her around.

“Mama?” Angie had asked. “What’s going on?”

“My little Angela is a witch!” Isabella exclaimed with a wide smile.

Angie frowned. “No I’m not!” she retorted. “I’m very nice!”

Isabella laughed and placed Angie down, kneeling in front of her and cupping her chubby cheeks with her hands. “My darling,” she said, “your Mama is a witch, too.”

Angela frowned in confusion. “What?” she asked. “No you’re not, Mama.”

“Yes, I am!” Isabella said. “I will show you!” With that, she ran out of the room, leaving her children confused, staring at one another. When she returned, she had a long, curved stick in her hand. She showed it to both Angie and Tony. “Watch,” she said, then whispered, “ _Lumos_!” and the children watched as the tip of the stick lit up right in front of their eyes.

“Whoa!” Tony exclaimed. “How did you do that?!?”

“I am a witch,” Isabella replied. “And so is your sister.” She smiled proudly at Angie, whose eyes were as wide as saucers.

“Am I a witch, too?” Tony asked.

Isabella frowned and shook her head. “No, my love,” she said, sighing. “I’m sorry. Your father is not a wizard either. Angela must take after me.”

“That sucks.”

“Antonio!” Isabella scolded, smacking him on the back of the head. “Language!”

He grumbled and crossed his arms over his chest.

“Tony, now I can protect you!” Angie exclaimed, smiling brightly at him. “Just like you’ve protected me!” Tony gave her a soft smile at that and nodded.

“Yeah,” he said, “I guess you can.”

Isabella was a weeping mess when she left her little Angela at Platform 9¾ and Angie found her hands shaking in anxiety as she boarded the train, toting a brand new calico kitten (named Antoinette, or “Nettie”) in the pocket of her dress.

Aboard this train, she met one of the most interesting people she’d ever associate with; Peggy Carter.

 

**_Peggy Carter_ **

Peggy had always been one for adventures. She and her brother had played roughly together all throughout her childhood, much to her mother’s displeasure. Peggy had rejected the notion of being a prim and proper ‘lady’ in favor of wrestling her brother into the mud and pretending to be a prince or a knight, learning how to fight from Michael and then overpowering him in their little battles. Michael, her brother, encouraged this.

“How will it look at Hogwarts,” Amanda Carter once said, shaking her head at her children as she cleaned around them, “when all the other girls are practicing wearing makeup and trading dresses, and you’re practicing punches and bandaging up your wounds?”

“It’ll look like I’m tougher than they are,” Peggy had replied, snidely. “And perhaps I could show them a thing or two about defending themselves. Really, Mother, we aren’t living in the 1940’s; I can’t possibly be the only girl who likes to fight.”

Amanda had just rolled her eyes and left the room.

When it came time for Peggy to head to Hogwarts, she’d hugged both her mother and father goodbye (receiving pecks on the cheek from both of them) and followed Michael aboard the train. He was already a second year in Gryffindor and he had regaled her with stories of his adventures there for the entire summer prior. Peggy found herself quite exhilarated to attend.

Especially when _she_ had shown up.

Peggy felt her face flush when the petite blonde girl opened the door of their car and poked her head in, big blue eyes peering around the tiny room. “Hello?” she said, her voice accented with something unfamiliar. Peggy wasn’t really paying that much attention to it, anyway, as the girl herself was rather…pretty.

“Hello,” Michael replied, nudging her with a grin.

Peggy cleared her throat. “Yes, hello,” she added.

“Do you mind if I sit with you?” the girl asked. “I don’t know many people here and Nettie,” she stepped in a bit more, revealing her kitten resting in her pocket, “is nervous around too many people.”

“Not at all,” Michael said, giving her a friendly smile. “Come right in and make yourself at home.”

“Thanks!” the girl said, stepping in and seating herself next to Peggy, whose cheeks turned bright pink. “My name is Angie, by the way. Angie Martinelli.” She held her hand out to Peggy and the girl stared at it, mutely.

Michael snickered and shook his head, holding his hand out towards Angie. “Michael Carter,” he said. “That there is my sister, Margaret.”

“Peggy,” she corrected sharply, glaring at her brother. She turned to Angie with a shy smile. “My name is Peggy Carter. How do you do?”

“Fine, I guess,” Angie replied, shaking her hand firmly. Peggy bit her lip at the slight tingle in the tips of her fingers. “I’m just very knew to all of this.”

“Muggleborn?” Michael guessed. Angie flushed and looked down at where Nettie was beginning to crawl out of her pocket and into her lap.

“My father is a…Muggle,” she said, the word still strange on her tongue. “My mother is a witch. We’re from Italy. We moved to London last year, after my grandmother died and I don’t know why I’m telling you that.” She took a deep breath. “Now you talk.”

Peggy smiled at that and so did Michael. “I’ve broken six bones in the last two years,” Peggy told her. “And I have a scar on my right knee.”

“Ouch,” Angie said, wincing sympathetically. “How’d you get it?”

“I climbed the tallest tree at my primary school,” Peggy said proudly, “because a rather rude boy said that I couldn’t.”

“And she fell off a branch on her way down,” Michael supplied.

“ _After_ I’d gotten all the way to the top.” Peggy grinned. “He couldn’t even make it to the first branch.”

Angie laughed at that and the sound was like music. Peggy felt her heart rate pick up and her face heat at the simple sound. Michael smiled at them, his eyes twinkling with mischief. Peggy just glared at him and stuck out her tongue. He chuckled and shook his head.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Danny Lawrence and the Quidditch Try Outs. Will she make the team? (duh)

**_Danny Lawrence_ **

“What’s it like?” Danny asked, walking side-by-side with her older cousin, Nicole, on their way to Platform 9¾ at King’s Cross. “Hogwarts, I mean? Do you have a lot of friends? Are there any other…part-giants?” She flushed, hunching her shoulders. It was a bad habit of hers, making herself look just an inch or two shorter than she actually was. At only 11 years old, Danny was already getting close to six feet tall and she prayed that she stopped growing this year. So did her mother, who worried about her ability to stay hidden among the Muggles in their neighborhood. She, herself, was halfblood, but both she and her sister had gotten into Hogwarts as children. They’d both gone on to marry wizards they graduated with. The only difference was that Danny’s father was a quarter giant and though he was average-sized, he had passed the gene on to their daughter.

“Yes,” Nicole said, giving her a soft smile. “Our groundskeeper is actually half-giant, I’ve heard. And I’m certain that there are more like him. Like you.” She reached out for her cousin’s hand and squeezed. “You’ll be fine, Danny. I promise.”

Danny took a deep breath and nodded, grinning down at her. “Thanks, Nic,” she said.

“Always,” Nicole said, pulling her into a hug. “Now, you see that wall?” Danny nodded, looking ahead at a plain-looking brick wall. “I want you to run straight at it. Don’t falter or pause, okay? Just go for it.”

Danny nodded, swallowing thickly. “Okay,” she said, taking a deep breath as she gripped the handle of her cart and pushed off, forcing her feet to keep pounding forward even as she closed her eyes and waited for the impact that never came.

When she opened her eyes again, she was next to another train, this one more crowded than the last, and there were young witches and wizards in robes milling about, boarding the train and packing their trunks into the overheard compartments. She could see them through the windows as they struggled and then leaned out to wave to their parents.

Danny and Nicole had said goodbye to their parents outside the train station. Nicole insistent that she could get her little cousin to the platform safely. She _was_ twelve now, after all. But Danny wished that her mother was here to kiss her goodbye and wish her good luck on her journey, as so many other parents were doing around her. There was one mother in particular who was looking up at a rather tall brunette, cupping the girl’s cheeks in her hands as she looked up at her and attempted to rub a smudge of something off of her cheek. The girl groaned and tried to pull away, but a single look had her holding still, a sour look on her face as she allowed her mother to finishing rubbing whatever it was off of her face. The three other children with them snickered behind their mother’s backs. Danny smirked.

“Watch where you’re going!”

Her head—as well as the brunette’s—whipped toward the exclamation as another, shorter brunette girl got into a scuffle with a dark-skinned girl, who chewed the girl out for knocking into her. Danny felt anger well up in her own veins at the display and she took one step forward, her fists clenching at her sides.

“Don’t.” Nicole’s hand wrapped around Danny’s wrist, stopping her in her tracks. They watched as the taller brunette came to the smaller’s aid. Danny watched as the small family immediately included the newcomer into their group, talking to her and making her feel at ease. Even from a distance, Danny could see that she was a Muggleborn; her eyes wide as she looked around, clutching her wand nervously. She was cute; Danny found herself wondering if they might be in the same House.

“Come on,” Nicole said, tugging Danny along with her. “The train’s going to leave soon.”

The two redheads regained their carts and grunted as they shoved them towards the train, which had just blown a warning whistle. Danny felt her spine begin to tingle with nerves as they boarded and her only comfort was the brand new wand in her back pocket.

* * *

 

“Welcome to the wonderful world of Quidditch!”

Danny stood with the other first and second years, all with brooms in their hands, as the Gryffindor team captain stood at the front of the team. It was the same curly-haired brunette girl that she had seen at King’s Cross. She stood with the other three house captains (all were older than she) as she addressed the group, which was separated into three categories.

Early Years: First and Second (First Years had to get special permission from their flying instructors—particularly those who were raised in Muggle society)

Middle Years: Third through Fifth (which made up the majority of the group)

And Late Years: Upperclassmen in their last two years of school (they typically didn’t get placed, since they would have to leave soon and these positions were held for years at a time).

Nicole had encouraged her to try out for the team, though she had forgone trying out herself. She’d had her studies to worry about this year, as last year’s grades weren’t exactly up to her mother’s standards.

“If there’s a spot on the team next year,” she’d said, patting Danny’s back as they walked up to the stadium together, “I’ll go for it. Until then, I’m going to be cheering you on from the stands, okay?” Danny nodded and gave her a hug before she started toward the field while Nicole made her way up to the stands, with the other Hufflepuff spectators.

Now, Danny listened as her own team captain spelled out which spots would need to be filled. Gryffindor only had three—one beater and two chasers.

“Get into three lines,” Rizzoli, as they called the American-born girl, ordered. “One for those only interested in being a Beater; one for Chasers; and one for both.” Danny didn’t really care which one she’d be, but Professor Benson, her Flying instructor, told her that she was pretty quick and agile, even for one as tall as she was, so she got onto the Chaser line. There were just a few others there with her and they looked at her the way most people did…

Like she was a freak.

Danny kept her chin tilted up, ignoring them as she awaited her turn. At the front of the line, Rizzoli met her gaze with her own, dark brown eyes, and a lopsided grin on her face.

“I’ve never seen you around here,” she commented. “What year are you?”

Danny tried not to blush. “First Year,” she said. “My name is Danny Lawrence.”

“Nice to meet ya, stretch,” she said, and in her American accent it sounded somewhat charming. “You ready to fly?”

“Yes,” Danny said. “Born ready.” She’d loved Quidditch ever since she was a little girl. She’d even met Ginny Weasley once, gotten an autograph and a picture. The woman had to be hovering on her broomstick to meet Danny’s height, but she hadn’t made too much of a big deal out of it, which Danny appreciated.

“Go on, then,” Rizzoli said. “Show me your stuff, Lawrence.”

Danny nodded and placed her broom between her legs, pushing off, ball held tightly under her arm. Two more try outs followed her up and they were faced with the team’s lone existing Chaser, a blonde girl with the word ‘Swan’ written across her red and yellow uniform, and one from each of the other teams—from Ravenclaw, a brunette girl with piercing blue eyes, named Brennan, and, from Hufflepuff, a dark-skinned boy who was already starting to grow muscles, despite being no older than thirteen. His name read ‘Forrester’ and his eyes were kind, even as his face hardened in concentration.

“Ready?” Jane called up to them.

“Yes, captain!” they all called back.

“Alright! Lawrence, pass the ball to a team mate and start the game!”

Danny did as she was told and the two mini “teams” faced off against each other, scoring goals and maneuvering around on their broomsticks. Danny was as focused as she could possibly be, but didn’t miss the resemblance her male teammate had to the captain. She also remembered him from the train station.

“Heads up, Lawrence!” Rizzoli called from down below and Danny looked up just in time to catch the quaffle and dodged the opposing players as she raced to get it through their ring, putting her hands up in triumph as she scored again.

By the time they had scored the required amount of points, Danny’s heart was racing so fast that she nearly did a victory lap around the entire stadium (but she didn’t, because she figured it would be in poor taste).

Landing back on the ground, Danny and the other teammates were congratulated on a good tryout and asked to stand aside while the others went up for their turn.

She watched from the stands as each team went up, instantly knowing when somebody would make the team and when somebody had lost their chance. She found herself cheering for quite possibly the tiniest tryout of all—a Hufflepuff girl named Laura Isles—who was going for Seeker. And, from her own speed and agility, Danny could already tell that she would get it. The young girl held the training snitch in her hand, smiling triumphantly.

“Gryffindors,” Rizzoli said, “you all gave it your best shot and you should give yourselves a round of applause for that.” There were a few scattered claps before she went on. “Sadly, we only have room on first string for _three_ players this year. We do, however, have alternate positions open for those we think are worthy of them. Alternates are as follows: Richard Castle, Chaser.” A short, chubby boy, with a face red with sweat and exhaustion, grinned as he was pat on the back. “Clarke Griffin, Chaser.” A blonde girl with a wide grin and sparkling blue eyes. “Octavia Blake, Beater.” Next to the blonde girl was a brunette with a bump in her ponytail and a body riddled with childhood scars. She shrugged her shoulders and flushed when the dark-skinned Chaser from Hufflepuff called her name out and clapped his hands. Rizzoli grinned. “Blake’s already got a fan,” she said. “I hope you get to play soon.”

“Thanks,” Octavia said, receiving a nudge from the blonde. She nudged back and the two girls giggled.

“Alright, so now for first string,” Rizzoli said, looking down at the piece of parchment in her hands. “Our newest Beater is…Peggy Carter.”

“YEAH PEG!” a booming voice came from the stands and Danny turned to see a blonde Hufflepuff waving her hands wildly as the brunette Gryffindor flushed bright red and tried to hide her face, shaking her head. Danny could see her smile, though.

“Okay…Um, and our two new Chasers are…seriously, guys? You picked _him_?” She looked to her teammates—a boy named ‘Booth’ with dimples in his cheeks and a charming grin, and a dark-skinned girl with a perfectly straight, white smile. They nodded. Rizzoli groaned. “Our Chasers are Danny Lawrence,” she grinned at Danny, giving her a wink, and Danny had to force herself not to jump from joy, “and…Frankie….Rizzoli. THIS IS NOT NEPOTISM, I SWEAR.”

“Shut it, Janie!” the dark-haired boy said, but he was grinning triumphantly.

“Whatever,” Janie growled back. “Congrats on your positions, guys. You’ll have your jerseys by the first practice, which starts on Monday at two. Don’t be late.” Then she stepped aside and let Slytherin address their own new players.

Danny stayed long enough to watch yet another Rizzoli receive a spot on the team. Her name was Carmilla and she was, apparently, the very first First Year Seeker in the history of Slytherin House. She, too, flushed as her teammates and siblings embraced her.

“Congrats, Chaser!” Nicole exclaimed, throwing her arms around Danny’s waist. Nicole was naturally tall, as well, but without the help of a giant gene, she was still nearly a foot shorter than her cousin, despite being older. Her parents were both tall, though, so she’d probably catch up soon enough.

“Thanks,” Danny laughed, hugging her back.

“You’re going to do so great!” Nicole said. “The Gryffindors always have the best players. I mean, they don’t always win the Quidditch Cup, but they’re still pretty good. Ginny Weasley played for the Gryffindor team!”

“I know,” Danny said. In truth, that was one of the reasons she’d been so excited to try out in the first place. It was why she had thrilled when the Sorting Hat called out Gryffindor. She hoped to be the next Ginny Weasley someday.

Or maybe the _first_ Danny Lawrence. That would be something, wouldn’t it?

* * *

 

**Quidditch Teams**

_Gryffindor:_ Jane Rizzoli, Seeley Booth, Cam Saroyan, Barry Frost, Emma Swan, Mulan Fa, Frankie Rizzoli, Peggy Carter, and Danny Lawrence

 _Slytherin:_ Matska Belmonde, Javier Esposito, Regina Mills, Elphaba Thropp, and Carmilla Rizzoli

 _Ravenclaw:_ Ichabod Crane, Temperance Brennan, Nina Holiday, Kate Beckett, Lanie Parish, and Elsa Snow

 _Hufflepuff:_ Aurora Briar, Angela Montenegro, Lincoln Forrester, Kevin Ryan, Jenny O’Malley, Wilson Kirsch, and Laura Isles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you think of these placements/teams? Thoughts?

**Author's Note:**

> More to come soon!


End file.
